Excerpt from Behind the Closet Door

He watched the rain in

the halo of the motel street light. Mist was rising off the pavement; the whole place looked spooky, abandoned. There were only a couple of other cars in the lot. He took a long pull on his cigarette and watched the smoke curl out into the night and then disappear. He tossed the butt out into the rain and watched as it bobbed in a puddle of slick, oily water. He braced himself against the cold and thought about going inside but didn’t feel like talking to Loretta if she was awake. There was something inside of him, an itch he couldn’t scratch. It was more than just a longing for adventure or a new place; he’d tried that before. Plenty of places just like Caitland, some better, some worse. There was something in him that wanted to come out and play, something that had been submerged in the dark for too long. He was waiting for something to come along and unleash it, whatever it was and scratch that itch. In the meantime he supposed that Caitland was just as good a place as any, and Loretta was a decent woman. She was kind; she took care of people. She was a giver and he was taker, a perfect match. He’d hang on a little while longer.